What's Important
by supernaturaldh
Summary: Sam and Dean are driving each other crazy. Being cramped up for weeks in the Impala and grimy motels can only cause arguments about nothing. But then, a bad hunt, and they are reminded what’s important. Angst, Hurt Sam, Big Brother Dean Story.
1. Chapter 1

**What's Important?**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Summary:** Sam and Dean are driving each other crazy. Being cramped up for weeks in the Impala and grimy motels can only cause arguments about nothing. But then, a bad hunt, and they are reminded what's important.

**Timeline: ** Sometime in Season 2. No reference to anything in the season.

**Beta:** None, all mistakes are my own

**Chapter 1**

**You Drive me Crazy**

"You know Dean, if you would look at the freaking map every once in awhile, you wouldn't always be getting us lost." Sam muttered.

"We ain't lost dude, I know where we are." Dean's eyebrows arched up at his brother as he leered at him across the bench seat.

"You don't have a clue where the hell we are." Sam huffed, long fingers rattling the map across his lap.

"Oh, shut up. Don't I always get us there?" Dean smirked.

"You are driving me crazy…" Sam spouted and turned toward his brother in the front seat, angry glare falling to Dean's face.

Dean's fingers reached over and turned the ACDC tape as high as the volume would go.

He could see Sam's lips move, his brother's eyes scrunched up in anger. _Sam was really pissed off_ . Dena just grinned bigger, shrugged at him, and mouthed, "I can't hear you."

**-O-**

The Impala was humming along at a nice clip around 65 mph as Dean slurped the coke from the large to go cup he had braced in his fingers. He gripped tightly to the steering wheel then pulled his kneecap up to steer it, grabbing the burger with his other hand and pushing it up to his lips.

"Dean, I told you I could drive." Sammy stammered out, his left hand coming over to grab the steering wheel hastily from his brother.

"Nope, I got it covered, Sammy boy." Dean said through a mouth of hamburger, juice dripping down his chin, little particles of bread darting from his lips. The car swerved slightly, as his knee moved against the steering wheel.

"Gross, Dean, chew with your mouth shut." Sam rolled his eyes, his fingers still gripping tightly to the wheel. "Can we just pull over so you can eat? I don't want to die cause you're eating a burger."

"Whatever dude." Dean veered the Impala off the road to the side of the two line highway and placed the car in park. He continued to munch on his burger, with extra onions, and gulped down his cola.

Sam sat stoically, watching his older brother devour the burger. His brother's stuffed mouth and drippy chin doing very little for Sam's own appetite. He looked down at his still unwrapped burger poised in his hand. "I'm not very hungry." He mumbled.

"Great, I'll take that." Dean yanked the burger from Sam's hesitant fingers and greedily unwrapped it, stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.

"Awe man…how can you eat like that?" Sam darted his eyes away from his older brother to the window.

"Cause its good." Dean said through a full mouth of food, still slurping loudly on his coke between chews.

Sam cringed and slowly sipped on his coke. _His older brother was getting on his last nerve. _

**-O-**

The tube of toothpaste sat precariously against the porcelain, paste gummed up on the top, oozing down the sides. The gooey substance was everywhere, sticky against the bathroom sink. Water sat in puddles on the countertop, and the ceramic tile. Damp towels sat in clumps around the floor.

Sam stood exasperated as he looked around the messy room for his toothbrush. _He had left it right there on the counter. _

"Dean, where's my toothbrush?" He yelled.

_God, his brother was such pig. How does he live like this? _ His bare foot kicked a damp towel sending it spiraling into the shower stale. His eyes darted around the countertop for his toothbrush. He picked up a damp towel from the floor and wiped off the puddles of water around the sink, hazel eyes still scouring for his toothbrush.

"Dean?" He poked his head outside the bathroom door and glared at his older sibling.

Dean was leaning happily back on the bed, dirty boots on the blankets, food wrappers scattered haphazardly around him, beer can in one hand, remote in the other. He flipped channels in quick succession, totally oblivious to Sam or what he was saying.

"DEAN." Sam yelled loudly, as he moved in three large steps to his brother and yanked the remote from his hand. He punched the T.V. off and stood, anger rolling off his body in waves as he looked at his dumbstruck brother.

"What?" Dean said cockily and ripped the remote from Sam's hand, flipping back on the television.

"Where is my TOOTHBRUSH?"

Dean's eyes darted from the T.V. to his kid brother. "How the hell would I know? It's you're freaking toothbrush." _Sammy was such a whiny ass sometimes..._

"Well, I can't find it. All your crap is strewn all over the bathroom. God, you are such a slob…no wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

Dean slammed the remote down on the nightstand and swung his legs over the bed to the carpet, fiery eyes darting to Sam's face. "Look here you little smart ass, I don't have a girlfriend, because I don't want one. Some of us like to play the field while others…" Dean's eyebrows arched up, "Well let's just say, they don't even know how to get a piece of ass."

Sam looked scathingly at his brother. _What a jerk._

Dean snagged up his jacket and shrugged it on, whipped the Impala keys from the table, and stepped toward the door. "I'm going out. You just get your boxers out of a twist while I'm gone. Oh, and I think your toothbrush, kind of fell in the toilet earlier. Not to worry, I washed it off and put it in your bag." Dean swung the door open, grin curling up on his lips as he exited the room and made hasty steps to the Impala. _Just breaks my heart._

Sam's eyes grew huge as he glared at his brother. "You…you…" He watched as the motel door swung closed with a thud and he heard the Impala roar to life and exit the parking lot. _Jeeeezzzzz, he makes me so mad._

**-O-**

Dean stayed out till 4:00 in the morning, coming back to the room drunk off his ass. He attempted to tiptoe but then stumbled and decided he needed to turn on the light. The bright glare permeated Sam's face as he blinked and raised his hand across his eyes to hold the glow at bay.

"Deeeannn?" Sam mumbled as he stared at the clock on the nightstand and then back to his inebriated brother. He watched as Dean stumbled to the bed and dropped boneless down against it, leaving the light on in his wake.

Sam sat up quickly, eyes glaring at his almost unconscious sibling. "Please, tell me you didn't drink and drive?"

Dean muttered something incoherent and Sam seethed. He slid from the bed to the window, and glanced out. The Impala was parked right in front of the room. _He should have called me, he _ _could have hurt himself, or worse someone else._

Sam stomped bare foot to the bed; his hand reached down and gave his brother a harsh shake. "Did you drive?"

"Wh…Huh?" Dean mumbled, "Shit Sam, leave me alone." He slurred, his hand swatting up at Sam, smacking him harshly against his arm, then he drifted off to a drunken stupor.

Sam was furious as he flipped the light off and lay back down on his bed. _He could not believe his brother would drink and drive, after all the sermons he had preached at him all these years. He was such a freaking ass. _

**-O-**

Dean heard the door swing open and he squint his eyes as the sun shone brightly into the room. The taste of beer still coated his tongue and he licked his parched lips, wishing he had a glass of water, but too hung over to go get it. He prayed that Sam had brought him some stout coffee. He raised his hand to his bleary head and tried to remember how many beers he had the night before. Sam had pissed him off; that much he could remember. He had left the motel in a huff, drank enough beers to barely remember coming back to the room… the whole evening pretty much a blur of beer, broads, and pool games.

He pushed up against the headboard and slit open his gritty eyes. He blinked as he cleared his vision to see his little brother sitting on the chair in the corner, gazing unsympathetically at him; one cup of coffee adorning his hands. He watched with longing as Sam blew on the hot brew, then tipped it to his lips and took a long gulp.

Dean scrunched up his face, his eyes dashing around from the table to the floor and back to Sam's smirk. "Did you bring me coffee?" _What, no coffee for me? You asshole…._

"No." Sam's eyes continued to gaze at Dean, piercing hazel orbs that were radiating with anger.

"What the hell you looking at, Sam? Like you ain't never drunk too much?" Dean bit out as he ran his hand across his forehead. _Damn he should have stopped drinking earlier. _ His head pounded from the excessive alcohol he had consumed.

Sam's lips stayed in a firm line, eyes an angry glare at his brother. "I don't bring coffee to drunk drivers."

"What?" Dean's voice rose and he let his hand drop to his lap, eyes gazing intently at his little brother. "What…" He said again as confusion weighed heavily on his mind. He blinked and steadied his stare at his brother. Clear reality hit him like a ton of bricks. _Sam thinks I drove back here drunk. Son of a bitch, I thought he knew me better than that._

Dean pushed off the bed, "I'm taking a shower, and then we can hit the road." He said suddenly as he swallowed back his anger at his little brother.

"Sure, whatever?" Sam offered in a clipped tone as he eased back against the chair, sipping his coffee, and watching his brother move slowly toward the bathroom.

Dean turned back from the bathroom door, tense, bloodshot eyes honing in on his little brother's face. "And for the record, Mr. Know It All, I did not drive the car back here. One of the guys I played pool with wasn't drinking, he drove it back and his friends followed us. Cause, I didn't want to wake you up." Dean shook his head and gazed at the floor, "I cant' believe…." Dean's voice cracked slightly, and then drifted off as he slammed the bathroom door abruptly.

Sam hung his head to the floor, staring at a spot on the carpet. The coffee suddenly loosing all it's appeal. _Damn it, he should have known his brother wouldn't drink and drive. They had just been arguing so much lately, Dean had been so drunk, he didn't think about what he was accusing him of. _ _His anger at everything else had morphed into this. He knew his brother. Knew Dean wouldn't drink and drive. What was wrong with him?_

**-O-**

Sam's cell phone rang loudly in his jacket; he raised his eyebrows, Dean's head twisted around from in front of him to gawk at his little brother with wide eyes. "Dude, you we're supposed to turn your freaking phone off!" Dean muttered in amazement, anger still evident in his tone. "Cell phones distract from the hunt, you know that. Let alone, they can help an ugly mother find your location."

Sam shrugged at his older brother. "I forgot." He whispered, then stopped walking and reached his hand to his pocket, eyeballing Bobby's name on the screen before he punched off the distraction.

Dean huffed lightly, shook his head in discontent, and continued on his forward motion through the dimly lit surroundings. _Jeez, Sammy, get your head out your ass._

"Sorry", Sam muttered as he placed the salt gun evenly back up against his shoulder and let his eyes scan the vacant subway building, his steps even and quick, right behind his brother.

Sam had picked this case off the internet. Just a random choice, no real connection to anything they had done before. Dean figured it was in California, and maybe Sam wanted to drive by his deceased girlfriend, Jessica's grave, maybe stop in and see some of Sam's friends from college. Dean didn't ask, didn't want to know and since they hadn't been talking much in the last two days, it was a mute point. He certainly did not want to upset Sam by bringing it up. His brother had picked the hunt, and that was good enough for him. But he would be ready, just in case they had any unplanned stops in Palo Alto.

The EMF spiked for a moment and Dean abruptly stopped, Sam bumped immediately against his back.

"DeeeAAAnnn", Sam stammered and eased backward off his brother's hunched shoulders. "Warn me when you're stopping, man."

"Holy crap Sam, give a guy some freaking space here would cha?" Dean nudged his hand to Sam's chest and gave him a slight shove backwards. He shuffled his shoulders around and then straightened them back up. _Sam was driving him nuts._

"Whatever dude, don't stop right in the middle of no freaking where." Sam huffed as he nudged past his brother and eased up next to him. _Horse's ass, just like Dad._

Dean turned and continued scanning the large area, boots scuffing against the concrete floor. The EMF meter was silent.

They were hunting the spirit of one Steven Moore, a young man that had died in this building in the early eighties, before this subway station had closed. Apparently, he had been run over by a subway train on the last day before the building was closed, body parts mangled and left everywhere along the tracks. Not enough remains left to even have a burial. Normally, burning the bones would take care of this situation, but alas, no bones to burn on this one. Bobby had researched and found a vanquishing spell, but in order to get it to work, you had to have the apparition pinned down in a hexagon circle made with Cat's Eye Rocks. Eight rocks; set in a formation around a floating ghost. Certainly, not their normal salt and burn; and it had taken them a couple of phone calls with Bobby before they finally located the cherished rock of choice. Sam had decided that if Dean kept the ghost busy, he could put out seven rocks, and then when Dean got the ghost in the area, he could thrust the last rock down and read the vanquishing spell.

The building had been standing empty since the 1980's, no one around. Now, some twenty odd years later, modernization had come to this run down structure. The spirit had other ideas. It had been injuring and killing the construction workers who were attempting to renovate. Three men killed, four men injured, all within the last six weeks and all within plain sight of the other workers. Although none of the construction workers would admit what they saw. They all said it was strange, a young man's transparent body and face glaring at them from the tracks just prior to each individual's untimely death. All eyes watching as an invisible hand seemed to hoist its victims high in the air, dangle them momentarily above the concrete, and then flung them into the rusty subway tracks.

Dean sighed, and pushed on. _That son of a bitch had to be here somewhere. _ He stuck the EMF meter further out in front of him, eyes gazing around the muggy darkness. They just needed to find it, corner it, and then destroy it, thus eliminating the ugly ghoul from hurting anyone else. Dean wasn't too happy with this plan; somehow it gave him concern that they had to chant and place rocks in the hexagon, hoping that the ghost stayed put while they did it. Since they had never done this type of vanquishing, they weren't too sure what would happen. But Bobby said, it would work, and they believed him. Not wanting to disrupt the work during the day, the hunter's had made their usual midnight trek to hunt for the ghost. It was now after 1:00 a.m., and they hadn't seen or heard a thing.

"Maybe this is a bust." Dean muttered as he kicked a rock across the dirty cement ground and shuffled further into the darkness.

Sam eyed his brother's motions, but kept on walking. His mind assaulted him with memories as he eased along slowly, right behind Dean. It had been a long time since he had been to San Mateo, California. His memories were vivid. It seemed like yesterday. He had come here with Jess. He recalled. Four months before she died, a Mexican Restaurant that everyone in Palo Alto had talked about. Now, they weren't twenty minutes from Stanford, his old life, and Jessica's grave. The thought made him sad, and he quickly forced it from his mind. He didn't know what he'd been thinking, but obviously he hadn't been. He hadn't even looked at the map, just picked the hunt and told Dean to get them there. Now, he wished he had taken a little more care with his selection. It was hard for him to be here.

Dean's eyes widened as the EMF meter sputtered than sprung to life, gauge darting all the way to the right, beep ringing loudly from his fingers. Sam shuffled up beside him, eyes darting down to the meter, then up around the building.

The loud screeching noise came from the left and both men turned on hasty heels, flashlights flickering in the darkness. The apparition floated lightly just above their heads, hideous sneer decorating its face.

Dean's finger twitched across the trigger of his salt gun and fired at the ghost. It squealed in anger and quickly whizzed above them into the rafters.

"Hurry Sam, put down the rocks."

Dean could hear his little brother slamming rocks against the concrete as he kept his eyes peeled against the darkness, waiting for the ghost of Steven Moore to make another appearance.

Sam's mind raced as he focused on grabbing the rocks in his pockets, then thrusting them to the ground in the outline of the hexagon. Remembering exactly how Bobby had instructed him to place them. He was to rock number six when he heard the howling of the spirit as it ripped its way back into the area, feral eyes staring down intently at both brothers. Both hunters raised their eyes to stare. Dean raised his rifle to shoot again, hoping to give Sam time to finish up the rock formation, but the spirit had other ideas.

In one flash of a second, the gun flew from Dean's fingers and he was tossed across the large room to the wall behind them, the gun thudding to the floor next to him. He slumped and slid down the rough wood, as unconsciousness attempted to claim him. He blinked hastily, as he struggled to pull his senses back on line and push himself back up. _Have to help Sammy. _ He heard the seventh rock banging to the concrete floor as he finally made it back to his feet.

Shaky words poured from Sam's lips, _"Jam tibi impero et præcipio maligne spiritus" _

He pushed all thoughts of what was going on with his brother from his mind, John's voice echoing in his head. _Take care of the entity first, eliminate it, and then, take care of the wounded._

Dean reached his trembling fingers back to his rifle and gripped it tightly in his hand as he pushed off the splintered wall, swaying lightly on his feet. He heard rustling in front of him and he grabbed the flashlight off the floor as he spun it up in the air. He could see the apparition floating lightly in front of Sam, who was standing just inside the hexagon, last rock perched in his fingers, and Latin words tumbled from his little brother's lips as he dropped the stone into position. _"Ut confestim allata et circulo discedas, absque omni strepito, terrore, clamore et foetore"_

The spirit lunged at Sam inside the hexagon with a loud moan. Sam's fingers fumbled hastily to rest on his throat, clawing for air. His neck and body arching harshly as the icy tendrils clutched tightly around his throat; his feet no longer touching against the ground.

Dean watched with sheer terror on his face. _Chant; say the chant, save Sammy._ He struggled to remember where Sammy was in the verse. _Remember Latin. _ Then, abruptly he started over, spouting the spell in English. "Now I command and charge you, O evil spirit! That you immediately depart from the circle, abstaining from all noise, terror, tumult, and stench, and if you refuse I will damn you both in body and soul. And abstain from harming any creature or thing, and depart immediately to the place which justice has appointed for you. Depart from my sight and flee from here."

Dean's eyes were fixated on the apparition as it hoisted Sammy higher and higher in the air. The hurried words tumbled from his lips. He saw Sam's eyes wide with fear and it made his chest hurt. He watched as his brother flailed his arms around in an attempt to grab onto anything around him. The ghost let out one last screeching moan as it released Sam. The poltergeist then wavered and whined out the window into the dark night air.

"Go back to hell." Dean yelled.

**-O-**

Sam felt the tight fingers clutching around his throat, cutting off his oxygen, and he panicked. _Dean, help me. Dean…._ He felt his feet dangling in the air and he struggled to pull in some air. The words of the vanishing spell gone from his mind as black dots danced in front of his face. He strained to see the red glowing eyes of the ghoul that was now shoving him high in the rafters. He grasped at the invisible hands that held him firmly, then, flounder his hands around as his eyes tried to focus on anything he could grab a hold of. He felt a sudden jerk, and saw the floor coming up to meet him at a high rate of speed. He wind milled his arms in an attempt to stop his fall, but with nothing to hang on to, it was inevitable, he was hitting hard.

23


	2. Chapter 2

**What's Important?**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Timeline: ** Sometime in Season 2. No reference to anything in the season.

**Beta:** None, all mistakes are my own

**Disclaimer: ** I own nothing and do this for fun…go figure.

**Note to Readers:** Okay, I am going for longer chapters, but less of them. This originally was a one shot and has morphed into a longer story. Maybe 5 or 6 Chapters …tops. As always, reviews are welcomed, appreciated, and taken very seriously. If you don't like something, tell me. If you do like something, please tell me. Reviews are what keep me going!!

**Chapter 2**

**A Kiss and a Band Aide**

"Sammy!" Dean yelled loudly, his voice echoing around the abandon subway station. His body immediately went into 'big brother mode'; adrenaline pushing his fear as it spiraled quickly out of control. _Oh God…_ His boots pounded against the concrete floor in four hasty steps, his own body ached, his head still buzzing from his recent abrupt meeting with the wall. He skidded to a stop and fell down on his knees, eyes gazing at Sam's prone body. _Oh God…this was bad. Okay, okay, stay calm, Sammy needs you to stay in control. _ Deans' shaky fingers dropped the flashlight next to Sam face, and trembling fingers pushed against Sam's neck. _Skin clammy… heart beating way to fast. He's alive…thank god. _ Minor relief flooded through Dean's system, and he pulled in a weary breath. His eyes quickly scanned his little brother for injuries.

Sam's body was lying on the dirty floor on his right side, his right shoulder looking like it had been moved forward about four inches and out of socket. He right leg lay curled up beneath him, twisted at an awkward and painful looking angle. The right side of his face was leaning against his right hand, and it would look like he was sleeping against it, but, his hand was turned inward and smashed into the concrete beneath his head. His wrist already dark shades of black and blue colors and had immediately started to swell. His long brown hair rested in a growing pool of blood that was seeping from his right temple, just beneath his hairline, and dripping in a bright red river against the grimy floor.

Dean's fingers moved lightly over his unconscious brother's body, checking for any additional damage. Dean let his fingers brush against the ripped blue jeans to see the broken bone now punctured up through the material just below Sam's knee. _Broken leg…definitely. _ Dean gently moved the retched wrist out from under Sam's cheek and pulled the arm down to rest against his brother's side._ Broken wrist…possibly? Shoulder out of socket…God that had to hurt badly. Head injury…concussion? Internal injuries….maybe. _ "Okay, trip to the hospital for you little brother." Dean murmured as he gazed at his brother's broken body.

He patted Sammy lightly on the cheek. "Sam?" _Come on; show me those big hazel eyes. _

Dean flipped open his cell phone and hastily punched it back on, eyes glaring at the object keenly, waiting for a signal.

Beep…No Service…Beep…No Service…Beep. _Son of a bitch. _

"Okay, Sammy. Okay…I've got to move away from you and find a phone connection. Its okay little brother, it's going to be okay." Dean's hand rubbed Sam's arm lightly, his brother didn't move or acknowledge the motion.

Dean stood; his eyes still glaring at the phone as he walked around his little brother looking for a signal, then he stepped backwards toward the darkness. He kept his eyes darting from Sammy to the phone. His heart was now pounding in his ears and he struggled to hold his grief and concern at bay, to keep his game face on. _Freaking cell phones…_

He had backed up eight steps and the darkness engulfed him as he gave the cell phone an angry shake and peered at it one more time. _One bar...God, please…Two bars. _ He punched 911 frantically, and stood stock still as he waited for the operator to answer.

"911 Emergency Operator, how can I help you?"

"My brother fell; we're at the abandon subway station on 57th street." The words skimmed across Dean's lips quickly, in one large burst of air.

"Okay, sir…sir…you need to calm down."

Dean pulled in a large gulp of oxygen. His eyes squinted through the darkness at the dim glow from the flashlight, at his still little brother.

"Look, I am calm, my BROTHER'S HURT. Is someone COMING? He NEEDS AN AMBULANCE NOW!" His words grew louder with each syllable, his hands shaking visibly against the phone.

"Okay sir, what is the address?"

Dean sighed and gripped the cell phone tighter, anger brimming with his words, "THE OLD ABANDONED SUBWAY STATION ON 57TH STREET."

"Okay, sir, an ambulance is on the way….Sir, you need to…."

Dean clicked the phone shut. _He didn't need her to tell him what he needed to do._ He shoved the phone in his shirt pocket and ran back to Sammy. He tugged his jacket off and quickly tucked it around his brothers now shivering body. He ripped off a piece of his tee shirt and pressed it against Sammy's bleeding temple. A low moan escaped Sam's lips with his touch.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean's free hand cupped beneath his brother's chin, his thumb lightly caressing his cheek. "SAM, Sammy, Hey buddy, open your eyes."

Sam gasped, and his eyes fluttered open to mere slits, hazy orbs gazing lazily up at Dean, momentary confusion evident on his face.

"Easy…there, kiddo." Dean's voice was steady and calm as he moved his fingers lightly to push Sam's long bangs out of his face.

Sam's eyes grew suddenly wide then his face scrunched up in pain. He blinked and let his eyes roam over his older brother's face, Dean's features became clearer as his mind registered the pain his body was in and he moaned.

"D...Dean? H…hurts…" He whimpered.

Sam's head bobbed back and forth against the concrete floor as he struggled to get away from the ache that encompassed his entire being. He clinched his eyes tightly shut.

Dean gripped Sam's uninjured shoulder securely with his free hand, "Sam, be still….SAM…listen to me…SAMMY." He felt Sam shivering beneath his firm grip and watched as his pain eyes filled with tears that rolled slowly down his pale cheeks.

Dean's heart sank to his stomach. _God, he had never seen Sam hurt this bad. _ "Shhhh, its okay Sammy. Help's com'n…it's okay. I'm right here" Dean's fingers brushed lightly at the tears, thumb resting on his brothers face.

"D...Dean?" Sam whispered through his clinched teeth. He tried to obey his brother, but the pain was overwhelming and he felt his body shuddering against it, panic overtaking him. He struggled against Dean's fingers, back arching up off the ground, gasping in some air as his breath came out in ragged pants across his lips. Black dots danced around the edges of his vision. _It hurt so badly. He couldn't remember ever hurting like this before._ He closed his eyes. He felt Dean's hand on his forehead, and was sure his brother was saying something. He tried to listen, to hear him, but the humming in his ears was loud. A large wave of pain blasted through him again and rocked him to the very core. His pain ravaged body began to shut down, the pain pulling him into a velvety blackness. He let himself drift, Dean's words fading in his ears.

**-O- **

Dean watched, unable to fix anything, as his brother succumbed to the pain that was overtaking his broken body. _He was useless. He had been such an ass lately, and now look at Sammy. Oh God…_ He ached for his baby brother. _If he could take all the pain away, he would._ Just watching Sam suffer was more than he could take. The tears pooled in his eyes and he pulled Sammy up against him, resting his head against his side, his fingers curled tightly around his brother's back, holding him steady, trying not to move his battered body too much. He heard the sirens blaring in the distance, and knew the ambulance was pulling into the parking lot. He gently coed into Sam's hair, "its okay Sammy, you're gonna be fine, just fine."

Sudden realization hit him, and his eyes darted around for the shotguns, both so far away in the darkness, that he couldn't even see them. _Good, I'll come back for them later. _ His eyes saw the beam of light coming into the open subway station, and heard the scuffled sound of shoes against concrete, the muffled sound of voices.

"Over here." He yelled, and then heard the sounds of running feet, hasty words mumbled in the distance.

He glanced down at his baby brother and pulled him tighter up against him.

"They're here Sammy. See, I told you they were coming, little brother." He whispered.

Dean leaned his head down to rest on Sam's forehead. _He needed Sam to be okay. _ He gently kissed his kid brother on the top of the head, just like he'd done when Sam was little, back when a kiss and a band aide was all a big brother needed to make everything okay. _He ached for that time again_ . The tears plummeted from his face and splashed against Sam's blood matted hair.

"Please be okay, Sammy. Please…"

**-O- **

Dean's eyes grew apprehensively wide as he stared at the Life Flight helicopter, the paramedics loading his little brother inside.

"You have to let go now, unless you want to ride with him to the hospital?" The older medic said as his eyes darted to Dean's fingers clutched tightly around Sam's hand, then up to his fearful face.

Dean hesitated only a moment, his fear of flying making his chest tighten as the blades whirled around above his head. He gazed as Sam's lax face, and back to the medic.

"Oh, hell no, I'm going with him." He pushed himself up toward the copter, his throat convulsing momentarily as he stepped up and took his seat next to his little brother. _Jeez, Sammy, the things I got to do for you…._ He swallowed thickly, and focused on Sam's face as the helicopter lifted off the ground. He glanced out at his Impala parked on the ground below, and wished he was on the front seat. He grimaced, one hand gripping the seat with his sweaty fingers, the other holding tightly to Sam's hand. He closed his eyes and muttered. "Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam." Over and over.

Dean didn't really recall much about the ride to the hospital; his eyes darted once more out the window as the sun rose up over the clouds, then focused back on his brother's face. _Sam needed him, end of story. _ So he pushed his fear down, and sat nervously in the seat next to his brother. He heard the medic's laughter as they noticed his tense posture and forlorn expression. But he didn't care. He was right where he should be, his fear for his brother far outweighed his fear of flying.

He vaguely remembered the paramedics forcing him to let go of Sammy's hand as they started an IV, placed oxygen on his little brother's face, and discussed blood pressure, shock, perfusion, and hypoxia. He gripped his brother's fingers tighter, willing Sam to stay with him, not to leave. He didn't feel the paramedic checking his own temple for the large gash that was oozing blood, or placing a butterfly bandage on his face. He had one thing on his mind, one focus, his brother.

**-O- **

The medicated hospital air hung heavy in the dimly lit waiting room. Sam whisked away from Dean as soon as they arrived. Dean was shoved by the medical staff out the swinging doors to sit anxiously and await news about his brother. He had done this way more times in his life then he could count. Always waiting to hear if someone he cared about was okay. He had been here way to many times with his little brother, something he was going to change moving forward. _Protect Sammy, keep him safe. _ His father's words echoed in his head. _Doing a slam bang job there Winchester. Arguing with Sam about stupid stuff, instead of appreciating the only family he had left and looking out for the kid. Starting today, that was going to change._

He fingered his cell phone, and gingerly pushed in Bobby's number, letting the phone ring to voice mail, and leaving him a message.

"Hey Bobby," his voice cracked, "It's Dean, listen, Sammy, well he got hurt on that hunt you sent us on, the one for the spirit without bones, you know the hexagon thingy, not sure that worked."He sighed loudly into the phone. "Anyhow, Sam's bad", his voice choked, "Call me."

He slapped the cell phone closed and shimmed down further in the rickety hospital chair, eyes drooping, then quickly darting back open. _Coffee… _ He stood, his fingers clutching the chair as the momentary vertigo assaulted him, and then gradually dissipated. He moved slowly toward the coffee dispenser. _Coffee, coffee, coffee. _ The words formed a mantra in his head.

**-O- **

It had been two hours of pacing, waiting, standing, waiting, drinking crappy coffee, waiting, looking at stupid magazines, waiting, and watching crappy news channels, waiting and Dean had reached his limit. He stood and stomped to the counter, eyes daring the nurse to not give him an answer this time.

"Can you check on my brother, Sam Winters? It's been over two hours, what's going on?" His voice was harsh as he slammed his hand down on the countertop hoping for a reaction.

"Yes, I know. The doctors are about to come and talk to you." Her face was sympathetic and sad, and made Dean's thoughts run rampant. _Doctors, as in more than one?_

The emergency room doors swung open and two doctors dressed in scrubs came to stand in front of Dean.

"Are you here with Sam Winters?" The oldest doctor asked questitively.

"Yes sir, he's my brother."

"I'm Doctor Forte, this is Doctor Babe. We got your brother stabilized and on some good pain medication."

Dean felt the knot ease in his gut as he looked at the doctors standing in front of him.

"Come, sit down." Doctor Babe motioned toward the waiting room chairs and eased to sit down in the closest one. He dropped the clip board and pen to his lap, and looked concerned eyes toward Dean.

Dean's nerves were frayed, and he walked the few steps to the chairs on weak legs. He was glad when his butt found the chair and he eased back against it. Sucking in a large breathe, he looked intently at both doctors.

"Okay, Sam…your brother, he is in critical condition." Doctor Forte informed Dean as he eased his rugged, suntanned hand up to rest on Dean's arm.

Both doctors sat quietly for a moment as the young man in front of them fought to regain his composer, damp eyelids blinking harshly as he fiddled with the edge of his bloody shirt. _Sam's blood._

Momentarily, Dean's eyes rose back to meet their eyes, piercingly stern look returning to his face. "So, how bad is it? How do we help him get better?"

Both doctors smiled.

"Alright, that's what your brother needs, firm support for his recovery." Doctor Babe nodded. "Sam has a concussion, broken leg, broken wrist, and his shoulder was out of socket at his shoulder blade. We need to do emergency surgery on his ruptured spleen and to set the compound fracture in his leg."

Doctor Forte grabbed up the clip board and leaned it toward Dean, "you need to sign this, so we can get him into surgery as soon as possible."

Dean nodded slowly and moved his fingers to grasp the clip board and pen. He signed the permission form with his shaky hand, and gave it back to the doctor. "Can I see him?"

"Only for a minute, follow us." Doctor Forte smiled and stood, heading toward the swinging doors.

"He'll be in surgery a couple of hours. We'll send the nurse down to advise you how it's going." Doctor Babe stated as he walked next to Dean through the doorway, eyes diverted toward the older doctor. "Follow Dr. Forte."

The doctor stopped in front of a private room with a clear glass front and Dean's eyes darted through the window to see his little brother, lying asleep on the bed. His face was marked with dark bruising that accentuated his pale features in the stark white surroundings. His right arm in a sling way past his fingers. The IV dripped blood, and medication to his body, and the catheter removed them.

Dean stood stock still and gazed at his brother.

Doctor Forte cleared his throat, "It's a miracle he fell on his right hand, it cushioned his fall. Protected his head, or you're brother wouldn't be here right now. To fall that far, well, a broken hand and wrist heals faster then a broken head."

Dean smiled weakly at the doctor, "Thank you for taking care of my little brother."

The doctor nodded at him, "its okay if you want to wait here, I'll tell the nurse to come here. You got five minutes." He walked away, heading toward the OR to get ready for his next surgery.

Dean eased silently into the room, hands reaching up and pulling Sam's too long bangs off his face. "Aw Sammy, what have you gone and done to yourself? What am I going to do with you?" Dean whipped his hand up and quickly wiped the moisture from his eyelashes, and then gripped Sam's hand in his own. "It's gonna be fine Sammy. You're gonna be fine. I'll be here when you wake up."

Sam's head moved slightly and bleary drugged lids cracked open to gaze at his older brother. A small smile curled up on his lips, and his heavy lids drifted closed again. Dean felt immense relief at that moment, and he squeezed his little brother's hand beneath his fingers. "I'll be right here Sammy, right here."

19


	3. Chapter 3

**What's Important?**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 3**

**Sticks and Stones**

Dean's body slumped slowly in the hard plastic chair, his head falling to his chest as sleep enveloped him and his eyes drifted closed. It had been three hours since Sam had gone to surgery, and the longest 24 hours of Dean's life. He had drunk enough coffee to float a boat, paced the small hospital room numerous times, and bit all his fingernails down to the quick. His body had finally given out on him and exhaustion had overtaken. His weary mind kept replaying the arguments he'd had with his brother; stupid trivial stuff that he regretted now. His eyes twitched and moved hastily beneath his dozing lids as he saw Sammy falling from the rafters in the dark building, over and over again.

He felt a gentle hand against his arm as he jerked to wakefulness, bleary eyes darting around the room to get his bearings. He blinked the grit from his eyes as they fell to Bobby Singer, hunched down on the floor next to the chair, large hand resting against his wrist.

"Hey" Singer whispered, "How you doing?"

"Bobby?" Dean pushed his weary bones back against the chair and stared momentarily at the face in front of him. Suddenly, he felt very overwhelmed with emotion, and bent his head down to rest against his hand, tears rising to his bloodshot eyes. He rubbed his hands against his tired lids, and heaved in a shaky gulp of air.

Bobby stayed hunched down, fingers grasping the young hungers arm and squeezing it tightly in his hand. No words were necessary, just the comfort of someone who understood Dean Winchester, and he would let him have his grief.

Dean steadied himself, shook off his momentary lapse in his 'game face' and pulled himself quickly back together. "I'm fine. You didn't have to come." He looked wide eyed at Bobby, face deceiving his quiet words.

"Oh really…I think I did. I have known little Sammy Winchester since he was three years old, I think I have all the reasons in the world to be here." Bobby said, as he pushed away from Dean and stood against the stark white hospital wall. "So, you heard anything yet?"

"No", Dean stood up wearily, his knees buckling slightly, as the large hand came back to his elbow to steady him.

"Sit back down, Dean, before you fall down." Bobby shoved Dean down into the chair with his hand. "How's your head?" Bobby nodded toward Dean's forehead. He watched as Dean's unsteady hand found the butterfly bandage and his fingers messaged at his temple.

"Okay.", Dean whispered.

"You stay right there, and I mean it. I'll go get us some coffee and you some breakfast." Bobby's eyes were stern and his tone the same military one that John Winchester always used with his boys.

Dean grinned up at him and nodded his head. _He was glad Bobby had come._

**-O- **

Dean's hands quivered as he took the steaming coffee from Bobby's fingers. Mr. Singer thrusting a breakfast sandwich in front of his face. Dean smiled as Bobby yanked the other plastic chair up to sit beside him, gingerly gulping down his own coffee with glee.

They sat in silence, Dean slowly picking at the sandwich, and sipping on his hot brew. The coffee slowly tugged his brain back to working order as he leaned back in the chair and sighed.

"Eat, Dean." Bobby ordered, "You'll be no good to Sam sick."

Dean knew his words were true and he pulled the sandwich to his lips and took a large bit. _He wasn't hungry, but knew Bobby was right. It had been yesterday morning since he ate last with his brother…his brother. Why was it taking so damn long? Why didn't someone come tell him something?_

"So what happened?" Bobby queried; coffee cup resting against his bouncing leg. _God, he had sent the boys on this hunt. He should have come with them._

Dean balled up the sandwich wrapper and flung it toward the garbage can on the other side of the room, then watched as it fell to the floor next to the can. "I don't know. Everything was going okay, then I was hitting a wall, and Sam was on his own for a few minutes. I don't know how long it took me to get back up, but Sam was dangling in the air when I got to him. I finished the vanquishing spell, but I'm not so sure it worked." Dean shuffled in the chair and took a large gulp of his lukewarm coffee. "I sort of lost control of what was happening when Sammy took the freefall to the floor." He said unsteadily.

"Okay, we'll worry about the poltergeist later. Let's just worry about Sam right now." Bobby smiled and tugged on his ball cap, his eyes darting to the doorway where a Latino doctor was now standing.

"Mr. Winters." The doctor spoke as he entered the room.

Dean and Bobby both stood, empty coffee cups dangling from their fingers.

"Dr. Babe, how's Sam?"

Dean took two steps to meet the doctor as he entered the room. Bobby stood back by the chairs, not wanting to intrude.

"Well, Samuels in recovery now. We had a difficult time getting his spleen out, there was a lot of excessive damage, and it was pushed up into the diaphragm. It took awhile, but we got it out of there, and stopped any hemorrhaging. His right shoulder was moved back into position and his entire right arm is temporarily taped to his chest. His right wrist was a clean break, so we caste it. The break to his fibula and tibia on his right leg was not as clean as we would have liked. We had to put four pins in his lower leg. He will be in traction for at least ten days. We also noticed some swelling on his right ankle, but x-ray revealed no break, just a bad sprain with the force of the fall, so the boot cast covers his entire right leg and foot. Finally, the concussion is minor, a discomfort, but I will say it again, his broken wrist saved his head from more severe injury. Lucky boy…baring all complications, and with therapy, he should make a slow, but sure recovery."

The tension in Dean's facial features went lax as relief welled up in him with the doctors words and a large smile rose to his lips. His firm hand came up to shake the hand of the man that had helped to save his brother.

"Holy crap!" Bobby muttered from his position by the chairs. "When Sammy takes a fall, he does it in a big way."

Dean and the doctor both glanced to Bobby, and all three men laughed.

"Yes, yes he does." The doctor grinned as he made his way back to the doorway. "He'll be in recovery for about an hour and then they'll bring him back here."

Dean nodded his head as his bright smile bounced around the room. "Thank you, thank you so much."

"You're welcome." Dr. Babe smiled. "I'll be back later to check on my patient."

**-O-**

Dean watched as his brother mumbled something and tossed and turned his head against the white pillow. He stood and leaned against the bed rail, hand reaching over to comfort the distressed movements. Sam had been back in his room over an hour and was still dozing in medicated oblivion. Dean eyed him carefully as he moved his hand across his brother's too long bangs and whispered soothing words to him.

"Shhhh, its okay Sammy. You're okay kiddo. I'm right here."

Sam felt the sensation of fingers rubbing lightly up the side of his face and across his forehead then brushing through his hair. A continual motion that always calmed him and he leaned into the touch. The comforting feeling he recognized from his childhood. He struggled to listen to the words that were being murmured in his ear. A warm fuzzy haze engulfed his mind and body, making it hard to make out the sounds. The familiar movement calmed his anxiety and he drifted off to blissful nothingness.

The next time Sam was aware, a cool rag was being laid across his forehead, and he blinked back the fog to open his lids to mere slits and gazed up at the hand that held the rag in place. He recognized the callused fingers, the jagged, chewed off finger nails. He felt something bump against his nose and he wiggled it lightly. The object moved back and he saw Dean's amulet swinging in front of his face as the rag wiped slowly down his cheek.

"Hey there", Dean's smiling face was right up next to his, rag dropping against the bed rail as he looked intently in Sam's face. Dean grabbed up the cup off the table and leaned it against Sam's parched lips. "Here, take a drink."

Sam felt a straw against his lips and he slurped in the cool water. He blinked blankly at his brother. _Dean?_ The word was a thought that never made it to his lips, his eyes fluttered, then lethargically closed again.

The third time Sam awoke, he blinked back the haze as he saw his older brother curled up in the chair next to his bed, sound asleep. _That looks uncomfortable as hell. _ He tugged at his right leg. _Why did it feel strange? _ His eyes darted foggily to his black encased leg hanging out in front of him. _What?_ He looked down blearily at his fingers of his right hand, resting against his chest, just beneath his chin. He struggled to move his arm. _He needed to move, why was he stuck like this? _ He heard a low moan escape from his lips as he shimmed against the uncomfortable position his body was forced to stay in.

Dean's eyes darted open with the sound of Sammy moaning. He stood quickly, adrenaline rush shaking off the sleep. He hastily eased up next to the bed, his hand coming down to rest against his little brother's chest.

"Whoa, easy there tiger," Dean held his brother steadily against the bed, stopping his sluggish movements.

Sam's large eyes gazed up at him, confusion evident on his face. "Dean?" Sam blinked and then tugged against his arm and leg again.

"Be still Sammy. You ain't going anywhere." Dean's hand never moved from its position holding Sam firmly against the bed.

"Why?" Sammy whispered with puzzlement on his face.

"Remember, you fell? The subway station. The stupid ghost that had no freaking bones to burn. Remember?" Dean looked curiously at his brother.

"I fell?" Sam licked his dry lips and relaxed against the bed.

"Yeah, you fell. You fell a long way. Broke your leg, your wrist, pulled your shoulder out, and ruptured your spleen. Got a concussion too."

Sam's eyes grew wide as what little color he had drained from his face. "I did?" He stammered.

"Yeah, you never do anything in a small way do you kiddo?" Dean smiled as he scooted the chair up closer to the bed with his boot and plopped down into it.

"How long?" Sam whispered.

"Two days ago. You been in and out a lot with the pain medication they had you on."

"I remember nothing since the last time we argued at the motel." A sad expression adorned Sam's face.

Dean took notice immediately and eased up to rest his chin on the bar by Sam's face. "Listen, I'm sorry we been arguing so much. Sometimes, this shit just gets on your nerves."

"No, sometimes, you just get on my nerves." Sam grinned.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, well right back at you dude." _Sam was feeling better, that was good._

Sam's eyes drooped shut, a small smile adorning his lips. _They were okay. It was okay, Dean was with him. He would get through this._

Dean eased back to the chair, arms crossing, smirk rising to his lips. _He was done arguing with his brother about stupid shit….done!_

**-O- **

Sam woke to the sound of voices around him. Bobby was visiting, and he and Dean were talking right next to Sam's head.

"I got Joshua to take care of the damn ghost at the subway station in San Mateo. You don't have to worry about it anymore. He had to redo the chant in Latin. Dean, I told you to do it had to be in Latin to work."

Dean's mouth fell open, "Well, I was kind of busy with my broken little brother at the time, you know. I can't help it when I get nervous I forget the damn Latin words. Latin sucks anyway….stupid language."

Sam's light laugh made both sets of eyes roll toward him. Bobby smiled. "So glad you're feeling better, Sammy. But dude, you look uncomfortable as hell." He quirked as he looked at the way Sam was laid up on the uncomfortable bed.

"Yeah, I am. I want to move, but I can't. My back hurts from my leg being up, my arm and shoulder can't move and it's making my neck hurt."

Sam's voice verged on whiny, but neither man said anything, both older hunters sure he didn't mean to be complaining.

Dean looked at his uncomfortable sibling and stood up, easing up next to the bed. "Roll on your left side." He nudged at Sammy.

"What?" Sam looked confused.

"Roll on your left side Sammy." Dean nudged him again.

Sam rolled slowly to his side as he was instructed and was pleasantly surprised when Dean's strong hands began rubbing his aching back and neck muscles. A low moan escaped it's way across Sammy's lips as he relaxed into his big brother's touch.

"Should I leave you two alone?" Bobby snarked.

Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam just closed his eyes and reveled in the relief he was getting from his stiffed up muscles.

**-O- **

"Okay, Dean, I got you two a room at the Alto Inn. It's all paid up for the next two weeks. It's about 20 minutes from here on the left. Sam, once you finish up your therapy, you bring your idiot brother here and come stay a week or two with me. Got it?" Bobby grinned and dropped the key in Dean's waiting fingers.

Sam smiled at Bobby as he eased up to sit on the side of the hospital bed. _He was so glad to be getting out of here._ They had taken his leg out of traction 2 days early and he had been ecstatic, just getting to slowly move around. They had taken his arm and shoulder out of the sling and he was working the kinks out slowly. His shoulder was down to a low throb now, his wrist, just in a cast. He was moving slower from his spleen and the stitches than from his broken limbs.

"Yeah, I got it. Thank you, Bobby for coming and being here. It meant a lot." Sam pushed to stand up on his good leg, but Bobby's hand nudged him back down.

"Don't stand up on my account, son. And, you're welcome." Mr. Singer moved toward the hospital door, "Okay, see you soon." With a twinkle of his eyes and a tip of his ball cap, Bobby was gone.

"Let's get your walking papers and the wheelchair and we can blow this Popsicle stand." Dean grinned at his brother.

"Wheelchair, come on Dean, I can make it."

"Nope, hospital rules you know." Dean grinned and walked to the door, "I'll get it, just sit tight."

Sam eased back against the pillows and rested his tired body. _So freaking glad to be out of here._

**-O-**

Dean noticed right off Sam's change in demeanor the further the Impala drove from the hospital. Sam's happy grin slowly sliding off his face with each mile. _He must be tired._ Dean whipped the car into the Alto Inn, his eyes darting across to his little brother, who now sat, tightlipped gazing out the window.

"You okay?" Dean looked attentively at Sam.

"Yeah…..yeah, I'm fine. Just tired." Sam mumbled and began to open the passenger door.

"Wait, I'm coming round to help you." Dean swung open the drivers door and thudded around the car. He eased his hands down to steady his little brother on his good leg and handed him the crutch from the back seat.

Sam tugged away from his reach, "I got it." His caste wrist wobbled unsteadily with the weight he put against it and his shoulder ached with the motion. _He could do this._

Dean watched his brother's back retreating toward the motel room and he stood stock still for a moment, attempting to figure out what was going on with Sam. _He was happy to be out of the hospital. Wasn't he? They hadn't been arguing in at least two weeks. Had they? What the shit was going on here?_

He realized Sam was leaning against the motel wall, sweat sitting lightly on his forehead from his small venture from the car. Dean scurried to open the motel door, eyeing his little brother carefully.

Sam wobbled precariously on his good leg, and Dean's hand came up to steady him at his elbow. Then Sam did something Dean wasn't expecting at all. He slung the crutch down angrily and leaned into his brother with all his weight.

"Help me." He said pitifully, teary eyes looking around the motel room.

"Jesus, Sam, worn me when I need to carry your heavy ass, why don't you?" Dean abruptly said as he yanked Sam's arm over his neck and helped him to the bed.

Sam plopped down on the ratty covers, and curled his long body into a tiny ball, face buried in the pillow, broken leg sticking straight out in front of him..

Dean just stood there, looking down at him. _What the hell? _ "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah" Sam mumbled, watery eyes looking intently at the white wall in front of him, fingers clutching tightly to the pillow.

"Whatever." Dean snarled and retreated to the Impala to get their bags. _What the hell was up with Sam?_ _He was already arguing…_ . He slammed the trunk closed and let his eyes roam the parking lot, the restaurant across the street. Then he spotted a sign on the road that made his mouth fall agape.

_**Stanford University- 3 Miles** _

_Shit… Dean you idiot, the hunt was in California. Sam was taken to Palo Alto Hospital. They were in Palo Alto. Damn'it, he didn't even remember where they were. He had been so wrapped up in Sam, getting him well. He should have thought about it. _

He yanked up the bags and practically ran back to the motel room. He dropped them with a thud to he carpet and stepped to the bed. He leaned down and pressed his hand against Sam's arm. "Sammy, we don't have to stay here." He whispered.

Sam rolled over slowly, and looked up at Dean. _He remembered._ He blinked back the dampness in his eyes and gazed at his concerned brother's face. "Its okay, Dean, I'm fine, really."

"You sure Sam. We can go down the road. I mean I can get us another room, we can go to a different hospital for therapy."

A flicker of a smile curved up on Sam's lips at his brother's gentle tone. He dragged his shirtsleeve over his damp eyelids. "It's okay. I got to stay here sometime, might as well be now."

"You sure?" Dean asked again as he stood back up and sat down on the opposite bed.

"I'm sure." Sam whispered, "Just goanna take a nap, okay."

Dean watched as his brother's eyes slowly closed, teardrops still resting against his lashes. His own chest tightened. He reached for the blanket and tugged it up across Sam's still healing body.

"Okay, Sammy."

He watched as Sam's breath evened out in sleep. T_his was going to be a hard recovery for his brother, from a lot more than broken bones._

22


	4. Chapter 4

**What's Important?**

**By: supernaturaldh**

**Chapter 4**

**Broken Body, Mending Heart**

Dean stared at his little brother. Sam just sat, gazing into space with a distant, vacant look on his face. _What was he thinking? Was he lost in his memories of Jessica, Stanford, and a life he could have had? _ One thing for sure, he was making Dean very uncomfortable.

Sam moved slowly across the bed, easing up onto his side and stuffing at the pillow with his good hand. It had been two days since they made there way to the Alto Motel and moved into this dingy room. Sam was a mess. Dean tried to make him comfortable and Sam did what he could to make it easier. He took his medication when he was told to, slept when Dean said so, ate when Dean forced him to, and moved with Dean's help. His broken body was a heavy burden, and so was his broken heart. The memories of his time at Sanford, and his life with Jessica, were overwhelming him. He didn't want to be this way, but he couldn't seem to snap out of it.

Dean looked down at Sam's hospital release papers, one more time. He checked again to see when Sammy had therapy. _Soon please…._ He could use that to get Sammy out of the room. No such luck; Sam didn't have therapy until Monday. It was Friday and the weekend loomed out in front of them. _Oh boy, three more days of a withdrawn Sammy. Great!_

Dean tugged his fingers through his hair and flipped off the television. His head darted across the room to check on his too quiet little brother. He attempted to read his expression, to figure out what was going on in that freaky head of his. _Was being in Palo Alto too much? _ He didn't know what to say, how to make it better. _Maybe it wasn't a good idea for them to stay here._ Yeah, Sam said he was okay, but Dean knew better than that. _Sam was not okay, Sam was far from okay. _ He also knew it was never a good idea to leave Sammy dwelling in his own head for too long. _His little brother thought way too much._ He needed to get Sammy to talk.

Dean shuffled from the bed to his feet, and stretched, arms tugging up above his head, muscle popping and snapping with the movement. His eyes watched Sam.

"Hey, gimpy, you want to go get something to eat?"

Sam's head bobbled up from the pillow and shrugged slightly, giving Dean a blank, drug induced glower. He moved uncomfortably against the bed, wincing as he did so.

"I'm not that hungry." Sam shook his head.

"Sam? You haven't eaten today. You can't take you're meds on an empty stomach." Dean jingled the Impala keys in his fingers just in front of Sam's face.

"Just bring me back something?" Sam stated sullenly as he gave up his squirming and settled back against the covers.

"Oh come on Sammy, you need to get some fresh air." Dean's voice was firm as he gazed directly into Sam's red rimmed eyes and the dark shadows that rested beneath them. _He looks exhausted. _

Sam raised his head, his long bangs falling gently across his forehead, his pale features looking wide eyed up at Dean, his face so fragile and childlike.

Dean blinked, a distant memory flashed in his mind and bounced around in his head.

_A five year old boy; sitting in front of his big brother. Long legs curled against a musty motel room bed somewhere in West Texas, a broken mattress, and gangly arms that rested up against knobby knees. Dean could still see the large, wide eyes of a little Sammy as if it were yesterday. Sam's small face full of innocence and trust. His features pleading for Dean to 'make it all better'... _

But sometimes, Dean couldn't fix it. As much as he wanted to, needed to, was driven to; it wasn't happening. Sometimes life just dealt the Winchester's a crappy hand and they had to learn to deal with it. This was one of those times. Sammy had to come to terms with this himself, and all Dean could do was be there for moral support.

The same large hazel eyes were now giving Dean that same look. The look that begged Dean to make it all better, the face that pleaded with him to 'fix it'. The two words Dean had heard thousands of times were now sitting on the tip of Sam's tongue and Dean knew it. He dreaded it, yet waited for it. He steadied himself for the onslaught. He knew what was coming.

"Can't…can't you just bring me something back. Don't make me go out….Please Dean?"

And there it was. The classic Sammy Winchester; spouting words that tied Dean up into knots. The words that were hard to refuse when Sam was small, and now, unfortunately for Dean, it had never gotten any easier. _Be tough, make him get off his ass and get out of this room. He needs to face it. _

Dean rolled his eyes at his little brother. "I'm sorry Sammy, but I can't bring you anything, you need to come with me, you need to get out of this room. Please Sam, come with me?" His tone had dropped to an obvious concerned one. _Let me help you deal kiddo. Please let me help you._

"Dean….I just…." Sam sighed, tired, fingers pulling slowly through his long hair and pushing it off his face.

Dean gave his brother a reassuring smile. "Come on, like you said, you have to see Palo Alto sometime. Now is as good a time as ever."

Sam gave his brother no response, sighed heavily and pushed up from the bed standing on one shaky leg, balancing precariously with the broken leg hanging out in front of him. Dean's sturdy hand came up quickly to grasp him at the elbow, to hold him steady. Then the older brother grabbed up the crutch and held it out for Sam to take.

"You're right, I know you're right. It's just….it's hard for me to be here." Sam murmured, "So many memories…"

"Come on, I'm right here with you little brother. Right here." Dean's grip never left Sam's arm as helped him toward the door and pulled it open.

Sam hesitated, eyes glancing around the parking lot, fearful expression rising to his features.

"We'll do t his together, kiddo. You and me just like always." Dean whispered, fingers still clutched to his brother's wobbly frame. Then Dean noticed a vague smile tugging at the edges of Sam's frowning lips. _Now they were getting somewhere. _

**-O- **

The conversation in the Impala lulled into nothing as Sam seemed to have lost him self to the memories that were assaulting his senses. Places he and Jessica used to hang out blurred past the Impala windows.

"So, you okay? Dean reached over and placed his hand comfortingly on his brothers' shoulder. His eyes darted from the front windshield to the sign they were slowly rolling past, "Stanford University". He let his eyes fall to Sam, who seemed to be caught up in the moment, the dampness visible welling just beneath his eyelids.

Sam gave him a weak smile and blinked the tears back slowly, dragging his mind from all the memories that were battering him; he let his older brother's face come into focus.

"Ye…Yeah. I'm fine. Dean, just fine." Sammy whispered. He felt Dean's finger's holding steady to the nap of his neck, grounding him.

"Sure you are." Dean gripped his fingers and held on tightly. Sam didn't flinch away, but sat and let his big brother hang on.

"See that park bench right there?" Sam's eyebrows arched up and he pointed across the street as the Impala idled at the stoplight.

"Yeah, I see it." Dean grinned.

"That's where I first saw Jess. She was sitting right there, talking with her friends. I about tripped over my feet trying to walk one way and look back at her." Sam chuckled lightly, and Dean smiled broadly. _Good, finally, he's opening up. _

"Really, so, your big ole boat feet got in the way, go figure?" Dean snickered and eased his hand off of Sam's neck, resting it slightly on the bench seat behind his brother's head. _Just in case._

The light changed, and the car continued to hum along down the two lane road, Sam now eagerly taking in everything and smiling.

"And right there, that's where we went out with all our friends. Me, Jess, and a bunch of other people, Zapata's Pizzeria. See Dean, it's right there." Sam's eyes lit up, and his excited hand bounded across in front of Dean's face. "See…"

"Yes, kiddo, I see it." Dean smiled. "Didn't spend too much money, I hope?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean, I didn't have any money. You know, I left home, and had to take a job at the college cafeteria just so I could eat. I was hungry man, no food, no money, that part of college life sucked."

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the set. "Yeah, but I thought you got some additional scholarship money. Didn't you tell me that one time?" Curious blue eyes glared at Sam.

"Yeah, I did actually, right after I got here, just after my first semester I got a letter from the D.J. & B. Corporation, out of San Mateo, saying that I had been selected to receive their scholarship fund. Man, it was awesome; I got like 1500 a semester in an account at a bank here in Palo Alto. I got to quit my part time job and study all the time. It was great."

Dean's face beamed at the words from Sam's lips. _D.J. & B. Corporation, what a nice company!_

"What are you grinning at?" Sam looked perplexed at the large smile adorning his older brother's face.

"Nothing…nothing…" Dean looked out the windshield, fingers gripping a little tighter against the steering wheel. "That was a nice scholarship for you. I am sure you were excited about it. _Change the subject, change the subject. _ So, where we eating?"

"I don't know." Sam slumped back in the seat, his mind churning over the last information he had just received from his big brother. "What a minute…" he looked perplexed. "Wait a freaking minute….D.J. & B. Corporation? Dean….?" His eyebrows arched up as he peered at his older brother.

Dean's eyes grew wide. _Uh oh. _ "Man it's hot out tonight lets go find us some beers."

Sam's eyes stayed focused on Dean's face.

"So how bout Mexican, I know this great little place in San Mateo." Dean's eyes fixed to the front of the car. _I think I been caught. _ Dean's shoulders shrugged, a small smile curling up on his lips.

"Holy crap, it was you…you, Dad, and Bobby. Wasn't it? Dean? The Dean, John and Bobby Corporation? Awe…man. I was so excited and happy to have the scholarship, I never questioned it."

"And so what if you had?" Dean darted his eyes over to his brother. "What difference would that have made?"

Sam just sat, eyes glaring at his brother across the bench seat. "I…I dun no…none, well, no, I thought Dad didn't want me to go."

"Sam, Dad didn't want you to go, but he loved you and wanted to make sure you were okay. He worried, hell, we all did." Anxiety etched into Dean's tone and he glanced over at his brother.

"Dad worried….about me?" Sam looked surprised as he sat staring at Dean.

"Sam, just because we didn't want you to go, didn't mean we weren't still your family. Yes, it was the Dean, John and Bobby Corporation that gave you that money. We all pitched in, opened up the account for you."

"But why…why didn't you just call and tell me?" Sam's eyes wide with disbelief.

"Would you have taken it?"

Sam's head slowly nodded in a no motion, "No, I guess I wouldn't have. I was kind of mad at the world back then."

"Well, no shit." Dean chided with a large smirk. He parked the Impala in front of Las Casa de San Mateo Restaurant and turned off the engine, turning to look at Sam.

"Look Sammy, Dad was a lot of things, but he loved us, he loved you. He wanted you to be okay at Stanford, and he made sure of it. We all did."

Sam stared at his brother, wide eyes filled with stunned surprise. "I never knew."

"Well, all those books." Dean shook his head, "Not as smart as you thought you were, huh, kiddo."

Dean pushed open the driver's door and slipped out of the car. _Now had been the right time to tell Sam about the money. _ He was glad it had come up, hoping that it would give Sam some comfort in the knowledge that Dad cared.

Sam eased out of the passenger seat, eyes taking in the Mexican Restaurant in front of the car. He waited while Dean pulled his crutch from the back seat and handed it to him.

"Where are we?" _This looks familiar?_ Sam let his eyes fall to the front of the quaint little restaurant, memory once again running amuck.

"Oh man, this place has the best Mexican food; I ate here with Dad a lot back when we were hunting together." Dean's smacked his lips, the prospect of the delectable food making him very hungry.

"Where was I?" Sam's eyebrows shot up in curiosity.

"School." Without thinking, the word left Dean's lips. _Shit. _ "Hell Sam, how do I know where you were? Jeez, you'd think I kept up with your ass all the time or something."

Dean scurried toward the front door of the restaurant, hand clutching at the doorway as he turned back to observe his little brother.

Sam hadn't moved. He was still standing by the car, leaning against the hood. His crutch had fallen to the ground and his arms were crossed. An angry glare was leering across his face as he gawked at his older brother.

Dean's fingers released the door, and he stood, mouth falling agape as he realized, he had once again stuck his foot in his mouth. _Okay, it's okay. Just freaking tell him and get it over with. _

Dean walked slowly back toward his little brother, shoes scuffling on the pavement. When he reached his brother, he stopped, pulled in a breath of the evening air, and leaned down to grab Sam's crutch. He held it out to his brother.

"You were here, weren't you? You, Dad, in San Mateo, while I was at Stanford?" Sam's voice seemed shaky, weak as he stated the question, staring fixedly at Dean.

"Yes Sammy, we were."

Sam slumped against the Impala, bringing his good had up to wipe at his forehead, staring down at a rock on the ground in front of him. Silence sat around the brothers as both let the information Dean had just admitted to churn between them.

Dean finally drew in a weary breathe and spoke.

"Sam, when you left. Dad was frantic. I know you never thought that he would be, but he was. He was so worried about you being here, on your own, alone. The demon was out there, and let's face it, at the time, Dad knew a lot more than you and I."

Sam looked up at his brother through his bangs, teeth biting into his quivering lower lip unconsciously.

"We came here, to San Mateo and made it our home base. Yeah, we traveled some, took on some hunts, but we always came back here. Dad would ride over and sit in the car and watch your apartment. Hell, we all took turns doing it. Me, Bobby, Dad, we had to check on you, Sam. It was important for us to know you were okay."

"I can't believe I never knew it." Sam shook his head. "I never saw you, any of you."

"We didn't want you to, Sammy."

"I can't believe it." Sam sighed.

"Just so you know, it was Dad's idea to put the money in the account; Bobby came up with the scholarship scam. I just came up with the name."

A slow smile rose to Sam's lips as he blinked harshly against the tears. "D.J. & B, come on Dean, there is nothing original about that."

"Hey, it fooled you didn't it." Dean smirked.

Once again, Dean reached down and picked up Sam's crutch, handing it back to his little brother.

"Listen, I ain't picking that damn thing up again." He grinned.

"I came here…." Sam pulled in a large gulp of air and looked around the parking lot. He turned his face into Dean. "I came here before, with Jessica, right before she died."

Dean was stunned into silence. He stood staring at his little brother. _What a dumb ass, just bring him right to the restaurant they ate at, you stupid ass. _

"We can leave." Dean offered.

Tears rolled silently down Sam's cheeks as he gazed at his older brother, a smile curling up to his lips. "No, let's eat here." Sam's free hand came up and he wiped his shirt sleeve against his eyes. He leaned into the crutch, and eased forward slowly toward the restaurant.

Dean followed beside him, fingers at the ready, just in case Sam needed to be steadied, helped, or just comforted. His right hand reached out to pull the door open as his left hand helped his brother up the step.

"You know, there was a hot little oriental girl in here last time I was here…"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean, it's a Mexican Restaurant…."

"So, what does that mean, bitch?" Dean smiled widely as he eased inside the restaurant behind Sam.

"Whatever, Jerk"

END!

20


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